


swept away my past loves

by lacecat



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Inception AU, Multi, does not follow Daredevil plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacecat/pseuds/lacecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Karen Page realizes that she's never left the dream-sharing world, Claire Temple offers her a job, and Frank and Karen have a history. </p><p>(Daredevil characters in Inception AU, currently on hiatus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	swept away my past loves

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm testing this out guys, because I felt it had to be done. Also, I'm trash for Kastle)
> 
> title from translated edith piaf

Karen carefully blots at her lipstick in the dirty mirror of the bar bathroom, studying her reflection in the mirror. That is, until she feels a hand at the back of her shoulder, and nearly jumps out of her skin.

Whirling around, purse in one hand as a makeshift weapon, she’s ready attack when she recognizes the woman behind her. “Claire?” 

Claire Temple smirks, raising an eyebrow at her wielded purse. “Karen Page. You’re a hard woman to find.”

Karen lets her purse fall to her side. “Well, it’s not like I wanted to be found. What are you doing here?”

The woman moves to the mirror next to Karen, and leans against the sink. “There’s a job, and we-” 

She cuts her off. “No. No, I’m done with that. I’m sorry you had to come all of this way, but no. I’m done with that,” Karen says, feeling her heart thud almost painfully under her breast. She takes a step back, to the door, back out to her date who she had left at the bar. And just when I thought that they had finally forgotten about me. 

“Karen,” Claire says, and her voice is calming, and Karen should just walk out of this bathroom, but something about Claire’s voice- “We need you as point. We’re going after Fisk.”

Something cold runs down Karen’s spine, and her feet betray her, moving forward, closer to Claire. “Fisk? You’re going after Wilson Fisk?” She hisses, her voice low even though they’re the only ones in the bathroom. “I knew Matt wasn’t right in his head, but I thought you would have some common sense not to try to take on Wilson fucking Fisk”. 

The woman gives her a careful look. “It’s not just Matt and I. We have Foggy as architect too. And-” and Claire then does pause, just for a split second, “and we have the Punisher extracting.” 

Frank.

And like that, Karen knows that she’s been trapped. Claire must see it, because she presses a card into Karen’s address, no doubt the location of some warehouse in New York, whispers something into her ear, perhaps acknowledgement, gratitude, and Karen can’t hear, because she’s caught in a memory. Her hands clutching on the wheel of a stolen car, Frank grinning at her with blood in his teeth, and the smooth slide of a PASIV needle in her arm. The screech of wheels, screaming, her pleading, Frank unloading the gun into the man’s face- 

Karen Page thought she was done with dream sharing, but apparently fate has different plans for her. 

\---------

It had started the summer after she had graduated college. Karen had taken up a job as a secretary in some prestigious law firm, where she answered phone calls, dressed in pencils skirts and patent leather pumps, and felt more and more hollow as the days went on. 

She first met Foggy Nelson and Matt Murdock there as well. They had come to the office for a meeting with her boss, and she had showed them into the office, closing the door behind them. 

Later, when Karen had come in with coffee, she had caught sight of many papers sprawled out on the desk. The blond lawyer had been tapping his hand energetically on them, saying that the apartments had been condemned for several years, that they haven’t been lived in but were somehow still standing upright. Karen had recognized a photo of a building that she walked by every day on her way to work, and couldn’t help but to speak up, that she had in fact seen people, families, coming in and out of that very building. 

Her boss shot her an incredulous look, and one of the lawyers had even turned to face her.

Matthew Murdock, as she later learned his name, had looked at her, from behind dark tinted glasses, and asked how she knew that the buildings had been inhabited, and if she was aware that apparently there had been a demolition order on these buildings. 

Karen had come back, stood between the two chairs the lawyers had pulled up to her boss’s desk, he had circled on the map the buildings. She even provided descriptions of the men who she had seen around the run-down building, who she had assumed were landlords of some sort. 

The next day, the blind lawyer had been back, showing up at her desk, and instead of asking to see her boss this time, he had offered her a job gathering information for his firm. 

It turns out that they had missed the fact that people had been living in the building, as they were mainly refused entry into the building, but Karen had the advantage of being able to blend in, to extract information. 

She had taken one look at Matt and stood up to go tell her boss that she was leaving. 

She then somehow managed to work for Nelson & Murdock for several months before discovering the other, dream-sharing aspect of their business. 

Coming into the office early one morning, Karen opened Foggy’s office door, not expecting to catch the two of them sitting in their chairs, needles in their arms connected to what appeared to be suitcases, about to hit the button and go to sleep. 

After some screaming, both fearful (Foggy) and incredulous (Karen), she had demanded to know what exactly they were in fact about to do.

Thus, she got involved into dream-sharing. Once Karen had convinced them that no, she was not going to call the FBI or CIA or any sort of legal enforcement on them, and that she was willing to take any risk, they had let her into the dream. 

That very afternoon, Karen had gone from a small office in Hell’s Kitchen to the streets of Chicago in the literal blink of an eye.

Foggy had meticulously crafted the shimmering slope of the Cloud Gate, the brisk wind that still had that warm, city quality, and the scowls of passerby wrapped in thick scarves. The buildings loomed overhead, and Karen could see the edge of the shadows creeping up ahead, rendering the distance just a little bit blurry. 

She turned around in the dream, waved her hand around, feeling the rumble of the train under her feet. 

Foggy handed her a gun, then, and looking into his eyes, she had also learned the way out of the dream. But it doesn’t feel like a dream- the voice inside her had protested, as she held up the muzzle to her temple, squeezed her eyes shut.

She didn’t remember firing the gun, but as she violently woke up, Karen gasped, hands flying to the side of her head, sure that only blood and gore would be there. 

Then, of course, she had met Frank Castle. 

\----------

On the train down to New York, Claire sits down across from Karen and hands her a thick yellow envelope. Karen raises an eyebrow at her, moves to open it, but Claire stops her with a hand gesture. “No, not here. Those are, ah, sensitive documents. We need you to do some research into one of Fisk’s associates, a James Wesley.” 

Karen looks up, but puts the envelope in her purse. “What does he have to do the case?” 

“Wesley is our target. He’s the one who would know everything about Fisk’s plans, his operation. But unlike Fisk, we might have the chance to get by any sort of protection he might have been trained in. He’s scheduled for a minor operation in two weeks.”

“Two weeks? Claire, you’ve got to be kidding. That’s too close of deadline.”  
The dark haired woman gives a small smile. “Our mole only found out about the appointment two days ago. It’s our only chance, besides. That’s why I was sent to get you.”

Karen looks out the window, at the Hudson River sweeping past in a blur of green, brown and gray. “What am I doing?” 

“We need you to find out everything about Wesley and Fisk. You’re also going to be working with Frank to find out the angle which we take this. Wesley is Fisk’s confidant, but we need to make sure what he likely knows matches up with what he’s going to be willing to give up. There’s no doubt that Fisk has made him go through some sort of mind militarization, but it’s the shot that we’re going to have to take. Frank’s already back in Hell’s Kitchen, with Foggy and Matt.” 

She sharply turns to look at her. “Frank left?” 

Claire studied her face. “You really haven’t been back at all since the job, have you? Soon after you left, Frank took off too. I would’ve thought-” but she breaks off her sentence at whatever she sees then in Karen’s eyes. “Never mind. I thought wrong, apparently. I’m chemist on this one, they sent me to go get you. Insisted, even.” 

Karen turned again to face out the window. “I was done. I will be done, after this.”

\----------

It’s like she never left New York. Getting into a taxi right on 33rd street, Claire gives brisk instructions to the taxi driver, holding the door open for Karen to slide in beside her. 

Half an hour later, they’re pulling up in front of what appears to be an apartment complex, north of Hell’s Kitchen, and a relatively nice building at that. The doorman opens the door for them, and Karen loops her purse so it is slung across her body and goes inside, following Claire up the stairs. 

Claire stops in front of a door, finally, and knocks once. The door opens, and Karen is met by Foggy Nelson. 

“Karen!” he exclaims, throwing his arms around her. She smiles into his hair, hugging him back. “I’m glad Claire convinced you to join our crusade.” 

Karen takes a step back, looks him over. He’s slightly thinner, his hair shorter and more sleek than she remembered, but she almost recognizes his bright blue tie with small whales on it. “Foggy, it’s good to see you.” 

The man smiles again, genuine, and takes a step back into the apartment. “Matt, Karen came!”  
Inside, Matt Murdock is sitting on a couch, and he stands up, turning to walk towards Karen. “It’s good to see you Karen,” he says, hugging her as well. He has no visible bruises, but like Foggy, his face seems more tense, dark circles underneath his eyes. 

Karen smiles, softer this time, but realizes with a pang that she missed this, missed them. “You too, Matt. Has Foggy been taking care of you?” She jokes, lightly. 

He smiles from behind his dark glasses. “Of course, he’s been on my case as usual.”

“How was the train?” Foggy says, taking Karen’s bag from her and bringing it more into the living room. 

Karen begins to undo the buttons on her jacket, begins to answer, but the breath is stuck on her coat when she spots the other person in the room. 

Leaning against the kitchen island, Frank Castle’s eyes are as dark as she remembered, and his voice as husky as he says, “Miss Page.”


End file.
